I Put A Spell on You
by Ziva- Zia- Z
Summary: Over three hundred & twenty years have passed, but when a case the weekend of Halloween takes the team up to Salem, Massachusetts, Tim's coworkers discover that though the Sanderson Sisters are dead & the curse 'gone', some curses- no matter how old- are hard to break. Post Somalia.
1. Chapter 1

**I Put A Spell on You**

 **Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **Summary:** **Over three hundred and twenty years have passed, but when a case the weekend of Halloween takes the team up to Salem, Massachusetts, Tim's coworkers discover that though the Sanderson Sisters are dead and the curse 'gone', some curses- no matter how old- are hard to break. Post Somalia.** **A/N: Written: 2014. - Licia**

 _"It's been three hundred years, right down to the day._

 _Now the witch is back, and there's Hell to pay."_

 _\- I Put A Spell on You,_

 _Winifred Sanderson, Hocus Pocus_

He stretched, glancing down to the lithe, sun-kissed body curled into his side. Her long dark curls were wild about her face, some tickling his chest, and after a moment, he reached up, gently brushing a curl off her cheek. Her eyes fluttered at the movement and slowly opened; those dark orbs he loved so much met his, sleep fleeing as she laid her eyes on his face. _"Boker Tov."_ She whispered, reaching up and gently trailing her fingers over his cheek.

 _"Maidin Mhaith."_ He whispered back; the soft Irish lilt sending happy chills up her spine as his vocal chords caressed the early morning greeting. Slowly, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep kiss. Since returning from Somalia, Tim and Ziva's relationship had flourished quietly; late night drinks at a small hole-in-the-wall bar near his apartment, weekends off rotation spent going for drives or picnics or walks on the beach at Cape May, and early mornings at their favorite coffee shop had soon turned into a budding relationship based on more than just the mindless sex Tony had been trying to get from Ziva the moment she joined the team. The Israeli wanted someone that cared for her, that loved her and respected her, and had been surprised that he had been standing in front of her for so many years without her noticing. Somehow, someway, Timothy McGee had staked his claim on her heart, and she, without realizing it, had claimed his.

When they broke the kiss, Tim sat up, grabbing his phone and checking the time. "What time is it?"

"Just after three." He replied, as she sat up herself, climbing into his lap.

"On October twenty-ninth." She thought a moment. "Isn't there some sort of... holiday that comes before Halloween? Like... _Dia de los Muertos_ , but Irish instead?" Tim chuckled.

"Devil's Night. But that's tomorrow night, and then Halloween- or as the Irish call it, _Samhain_ \- on the thirty-first, and then the Feast of all Saints is on the first."

" _Samhain_. That's what it is. That's the day when the two worlds cross, ken?" Tim chuckled, running his hands up her back.

"Kind of. It's the one day out of the year that the veil between the two worlds lifts, allowing the dead to walk with the living." He met her gaze, tangling his fingers in her dark hair. "And we have the weekend off so-" Their lips met, and for several minutes, they became lost in each others' tastes, hands roaming and finding every familiar nook and cranny of each other, grasping at skin and tangling in hair.

Tim's phone rang, and he reluctantly pulled away, groaning softly. Ziva sighed, resting her head against his shoulder as he grabbed his cell and checked the messages. "Gibbs. Murder of a petty officer. We're to pack a suitcase and meet him at the Navy Yard."

"Did he say why?" Ziva asked as she climbed off his lap. Tim shook his head.

"No clue."

* * *

Tony looked up as Tim and Ziva quickly joined him and the rest of the team. One quick glance told him all he needed to know. "How long have you been with Ziva, McLover?" Tim rolled his eyes, brushing Tony off, even as the older agent followed at his heels as they boarded the plane. He stopped, jumping as Ziva smacked him on the back of the head.

"That is none of your business, Tony." Ziva hissed, brushing past the man and squeezing Tim's hand as she went to her seat. Once they were settled and the plane had taken off, Abby turned to Gibbs, bouncing in her seat.

"Where are we going, Gibbs? Did they say?"

"Abby, calm down." Tony said, settling back in his seat beside her. "So where are we going, Boss?"

Gibbs sighed, realizing that Tony and Abby were one in the same; a small part of him found it funny, that, of all his agents, his two oldest were the juveniles, while his two youngest were the adults. Funny, how he didn't need to reign in McGee and Ziva. Then again, both of them had had to pretty much grow up before either Tony or Abby ever had to, so it didn't really surprise him much. "Salem."

"Salem? As in Salem-where-the-witch-trials-were-held Salem? As in mass-hysteria-Salem? Really?" Abby cried, bouncing harder in her seat. Gibbs nodded.

"Wait, in Massachusetts?" Tony asked. "Like, where _Hocus Pocus_ was set?"

"What's _Hocus Pocus_?" Ziva turned to Tim. He sighed.

"It was this Disney movie made in the early nineties, about three witches who come back to life on Halloween eve in Salem, Massachusetts. It dealt with curses and talking cats and cheesy music." Ziva nodded. "It's usually played all October long until Halloween."

"And the actor that plays Thackery Binx looks a lot like our Timmy." Tony said, reaching over and ruffling Tim's hair, even as the younger agent pulled away with a glare. Ziva took Tim's hand, squeezing gently.

"Shove it, Tony." Tim replied.


	2. Chapter 2

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **Summary:** **A/N: Written: 2014. - Licia**

 _"His punishment shall not be to die, but to live forever with his guilt."_

He turned his head, lost in the nightmare. Ziva snuggled closer, tightening her arms around his waist. The small bed and breakfast the team was staying at was in the heart of Salem- a beautiful old Victorian home with a square cupola at the top; the house had once been home to the Dennison family, but since the kids had grown and moved on, the parents had sold it, leaving the new owners to turn it into a bed and breakfast. Softly, Tim whimpered, tightening his grip on Ziva even as he tried to push her away to escape. Eventually, though, his moving awoke Ziva, and she lifted her head from his chest. It took a few minutes for her gaze to adjust to the darkness, but once it did, she was able to see the emotions flashing across his face, as he fought within the nightmare.

"Tim? Tim, baby, wake up."

"No... no, don't..."

"Tim." She reached up, taking his face in her hands in an attempt to get him to stop moving long enough to listen to her. "Tim, baby stop. You're having a nightmare-"

"Emily... no. Emily!"

She pulled back, surprise filling every fiber of her being as the name flew from his lips. Minutes passed, before Ziva slipped out of bed and went to the small closet that had been converted into a bathroom when the house had been renovated. She took leaned against the sink, watching as goose bumps rose on her exposed flesh. Something about the way he'd cried out for her, for this Emily had her spooked.

Who was she, anyway? A former friend? Childhood sweetheart? Old girlfriend? Someone Tim knew from his college years at MIT or John Hopkins? Or did she have a deeper connection to him? _She could be a former lover of his._ She shook her head. No, that couldn't be it. Both knew about their past lovers and relationships, and both had made a point to let the other know that their past relationships didn't define their current one.

So who the _hell_ was Emily?

She turned, hearing Tim cry out, and rushed back into the room, to find him writhing and crying out as if in pain. Ziva climbed onto the bed beside him, pressing her hands to his shoulders, attempting to hold him down. She searched his face, but he hadn't opened his eyes. Still trapped in the nightmare, Tim continued to fight her. "Tim! _Timmy! Timothy, wake up!_ " She reached out to brush his hair out of his eyes, but he reached out, grabbing her wrist in an iron grip as his green eyes snapped open.

 _"Emily!"_

He found himself staring into Ziva's dark, worry-filled eyes. She sat beside him, one hand pressed against his shoulder. Several minutes passed as he struggled to catch his breath, and slowly sat up, pushing himself back against the headboard. Ziva remained silent, letting him gather his thoughts. Once it seemed like he'd gotten his faculties back in order, Tim choked out,

"Ziva?"

She nodded, before climbing into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms tight around her waist, holding her close as he lay his chin against her head. She could feel his heart, still beating erratically in his chest, and gently, reached down, laying a hand over his chest, hoping the feel of her palm against his skin would calm the wild beating within his ribcage. Slowly, he buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent. Eventually, he pressed a kiss to her head, pulling away.

"You okay now?" She asked softly. He nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah. Sorry, it was just a nightmare." She gave him a weak smile, deciding not to bring up the other woman's name he'd screamed in his sleep.

* * *

"So what... exactly happened?" Tony asked that morning as they arrived at the crime scene. The petty officer's body had been dumped in the local cemetery, and found by a group of teens out looking for a little pre-Halloween fun. Now, the team gathered in the graveyard, photographing, tagging and bagging evidence amid the falling leaves and crooked stones.

"Signs of strangulation, Anthony." Ducky stated as he pulled the liver probe from the woman's body. "I'd say she died... between twenty-four and seventy-two hours ago-"

"So she's been here this entire time, and we're only _now_ just processing the crime scene?" Tony asked, looking at the wily ME.

"Small-town mentality. Most people in small towns like this don't trust big city people, especially federal employees like us." Gibbs replied.

"But we're civilian-"

"Doesn't matter, DiNozzo. According to people in towns like these, anyone from out of town isn't to be trusted."

As Tony and Gibbs continued to bag and tag, Tim and Ziva searched for any evidence left near the crime scene, snapping photos and jotting down notes. As he snapped another photo, Tim stopped, lowering the camera and stepping closer to study the gravestone. It was old, probably from the late seventeenth or early eighteenth century. The engraving around the edges was simple, but it gave the stone an elegant beauty. The engraved face of a cherub looked over the body buried beneath the worn script. He moved closer, kneeling down to read what was engraved into the stone. "Here lies the body of-" He stopped, reaching down to brush the dirt and webs off the name. Clearly, these stones were neglected, left to rot and erode like clothing hidden away in the attic. Once he got the grime clear, he slowly read the name, and his heart stilled.

 _Emily Binx._

His nightmare from early that morning came rushing back full force, and he struggled to take a breath. He didn't hear Ziva calling for him, he only focused on the stone, on the name of the girl buried beneath. "Tim? Timothy?"

 _"Thackery! Thackery Binx!"_

 _"Emily!"_

 _"Thackery Binx, what took thee so long?"_

 _"I'm sorry, Emily. I had to-"_

Tim took a deep breath. " _'wait three hundred years for a virgin to light a candle.'_ " Someone laid their hand on his shoulder and he jumped, turning to see Ziva standing over him.

"Timothy? Are you okay?" He nodded, glancing quickly at the stone before standing. When he found himself the object of her study, he sighed, taking her hand and squeezing.

"I'm fine. I promise." Then, with a last glance at the stone, he made his way towards Gibbs and the rest of the team. Ziva watched him go before turning her attention back to the stone her lover had been transfixed by. She studied the stone, eyes lighting at the name.

Emily Binx.

Emily.

But... but how did Tim know who this girl was? She had apparently died over three hundred years ago, and as far as Ziva knew, Tim had never been to Salem before. He wasn't like Abby, who loved all things cemetery and death related, and he'd never been interested much in the history of the witch trials, he'd always been more interested in things like Russia during the Great War, or the Rape of Nanking, or the White Rose Resistance during the Holocaust- things that made him think, and that screamed to be understood. Not that the witch trials probably didn't do the same thing, but it just wasn't something Tim was interested in.

"Ziva! Come on!" She turned back; Tim was waiting for her.

"Be right there!" He nodded. With one final glance at the stone, she hurried to join her partner and her team.


	3. Chapter 3

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2014. - Licia**

The team returned to the bed and breakfast, gathering in Gibbs' room with lunch and going over evidence; Ducky and Jimmy had taken the body down to the morgue to perform the autopsy, and Abby had followed, to run tests with the primitive equipment Salem possessed. Over burgers and Chinese- because Tony wanted burgers and Tim and Ziva both agreed on Chinese, so Gibbs had compromised, getting Chinese for his two youngest and burgers for himself and his oldest- they plotted out a rough timeline of possible events. McGee had his computer running a search on the woman's identity, and sat back against the headboard of Gibbs' bed, occasionally taking bites of his chow mien, but mostly picking at it without appetite. Ziva sat beside him, legs crossed beneath her, watching her lover silently.

"Are you okay, Tim?" He didn't answer; Tony, seeing his chance, got up and made his way towards the bed, reaching out for Tim's carton. Ziva slapped his hand away, using her chopsticks to jab at his palm. "Do not even think of it, Tony!" Glaring, Tony scurried back to the chair at the table where Gibbs was sitting. Once she'd made sure Tony was safely away from the bed, Ziva turned back to her lover. "Hey, look at me, Tim. Aren't you hungry?"

He sighed, suddenly exhausted. "I'm fine, Ziva. Just don't have much of an appetite."

"You didn't get much sleep last night." She said; Tony's ears perked up.

"What were you two doing last night? Besides breaking Rule Twelve." The couple glared at him, and he winced, feeling Gibbs' hand connect with the back of his head. "Thank you, Boss."

"We weren't, Tony. Tim had a nightmare, and I couldn't get him out of it." Ziva replied, sharing a glance with Tim. He sighed, getting up.

"I'm gonna go check on the search." And without another word, he left the room; Ziva quickly climbed off the bed, following, but Gibbs was by her side in an instant, tugging her out the door and forcing her to stay in the hallway. Once the door was closed, the silver-haired man turned to the Israeli.

"How long has this been going on between you and McGee?" Ziva sighed, meeting his gaze.

"Does it really matter? We have been able to keep it out of the office and away from work. That is all that matters, ken?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow, and then kicked the door; they could hear Tony scamper back across the carpet towards the chairs and table. Minutes passed in silence, and finally, Ziva ducked her head, uncomfortable under Gibbs's ice cold stare.

"When did this start, Ziver?" He asked gently when he noticed her glance towards the room she shared with him. Tony was sharing with Abby, and it was evident that despite Tony's jokes, he was having just as good a time sharing a room with Abby as Ziva was sharing with Tim. She took a deep breath, reaching up to brush her fingers over the Star around her neck.

"After we returned from Somalia. Tim was willing to listen if I needed to talk, and it just sort of... paint balled from there."

"Snowballed." Tim correctly softly; Ziva and Gibbs turned to him. He sighed, going to Gibbs. "Look, Gibbs, if you want to fire me, go ahead, I don't really care but-"

But before Tim could say anything further, Gibbs turned and headed back into the room. "Just keep it out of the office, and we won't have a problem. Besides, you can do a better job of hiding it that Tony and Abby can." Ziva started, surprised. She turned to Tim.

"Did he just-" But Tim was gone, the door to their room closed. Sighing, she followed, shutting the door softly behind her. "Tim? You okay, baby?" He was sitting on the bed, his laptop open, staring at something. "What did the results say?" He looked up as she joined him on the bed.

"Oh, nothing, they're still running." She nodded.

"So what's this?" It was the photograph of the gravestone Tim had taken today.

"It's that stone I found. That belongs to that little girl. Emily Binx." He sighed. "That name sounds so familiar, but I can't think of where I've heard it before."

"What about that movie?" She asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He shook his head.

"No. It's only on around Halloween, besides, we've both been so busy, we haven't had time to watch much TV, let alone movies. It's like... like I _knew_ her. Like I... like I had grown up around her."

"But she died in the sixteen-nineties. There is no way-"

"I know, Ziva. I know. I just... I can't shake this feeling that she was important to me. Like she meant something in my life at one time." Slowly, Ziva reached up, cradling his face in her hands. She studied his eyes, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"You're tired. What you need is a good night's sleep. And I'll be right here, I promise." Tim nodded, conceding that she might very well be right.

* * *

Four.

He sighed; he shouldn't be going for a run at four in the morning in Salem, Massachusetts, but he couldn't just lie in bed next to Ziva and expect this nervousness to go away. So silently, he pulled on his running shoes and grabbed his windbreaker, pressing a kiss to Ziva's forehead before slipping out of the room. He took in the bright fall colors as he started off on his run, drinking in the fresh New England air as he passed by several beautiful old Victorian homes.

This case had barely even started, and Tim was already being tormented by nightmares and black feelings in the pit of his stomach. And it wasn't even the petty officer's murder that was making him sick and setting him on edge; it was the town itself, and the fact that he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew this town, even though he'd never been here before. And that Emily Binx buried in the cemetery-

He stopped, doubling over to catch his breath. When he finally straightened, he found himself in front of an old thatch-roofed cottage. Glancing behind him, he found that he'd somehow left the bed and breakfast, and made the mile and a half jog across town and out towards this small cottage. Once he caught his breath, he wandered over towards the sign posted in front of the house.

 _The Old Sanderson House Museum_

Glancing over his shoulder, Tim stepped up to the window, peaking through the dusty glass. Blurry objects sat around the house, some in glass cases, others out in the open air. As Tim pressed a hand to the wood to step back away from the window, he stopped, a sick feeling coming over him.

 _The rough wood was cold against his calloused hands, and he ducked beneath the open window when one of the women- the redhead- walked past the window. Crawling around the side of the house, he made his way towards the water wheel, and quickly, deftly, silently climbed up it. Slipping into the upper loft, he crawled forward on his stomach, peeking over the edge in time to see the sisters suck the life force out of his baby sister._

 _Emily._

He jumped at the sound of leaves crunching behind him, and turned, in time to see a black cat take a seat and meow at him. Shaking his head, he made his way past the cat, making his way back to the bed and breakfast, unaware that the cat had followed him the entire way.

* * *

"Tim, Ziva, I want you two to track down those kids who found our petty officer's body. Get as much information as you can from them. Tony and I will stop by the morgue, see if Ducky's found anything useful that will help the case-" Gibbs stopped, and everyone turned to see a black cat- the same cat that had found Tim at the old museum- sitting on the sidewalk, as though it'd been waiting for them.

"Is that a-" Tony started, as Tim sneezed; the cat, upon seeing Tim, had immediately gotten up and made its way towards the young agent. A moment passed before Ziva knelt down, scooping the cat up.

"It's a cat." Ziva cooed; she let the cat nudge its nose against hers, and giggled. The ball of black fur purred loudly, staring at her with its bright green eyes, before turning its head and letting its gaze land on Tim. With a mew, it reached out one arm, stretching to bat at Tim, who backed up instantly. After a moment, the cat leapt nimbly from Ziva's arms and landed on its feet, going to Tim. As the black animal began to rub its coat against Tim's legs, Tony cracked,

"Looks like you've got a pet, McGee." Tim glared at the older man and backed up, bumping into the wood railing that led up to the front door. The cat continued to follow, clearly set on making sure Tim knew that it had claimed him as its human.

"No, I don't. I already have Jethro, I don't need another animal, especially a c... c..." He sneezed, sniffling. "Cat."

Tony snorted. "Sure you don't, Probie." He grinned at Ziva, who shook her head, going to Tim and kneeling down. She scooped up the cat, walking down to the sidewalk and dropping the cat gently on the sidewalk.

"Go on, shoo! Shoo!" But the cat just sat there, watching her. She sighed, turning and heading back towards Tim. "You okay?" He nodded, sniffling. Gibbs watched his two youngest before,

"Go take some medication, McGee, and then you and Ziva head out and see if you can get those kids' statements." Tim nodded, as his boss and Tony headed to the car. Once they were gone, Ziva took his hand.

"Come on. We can stop by the drug store and pick something up before we talk to those kids." She pressed a kiss to his cheeks, before gently tugging him towards the other car. As they drove off, the cat jumped onto the porch and settled down to wait.


	4. Chapter 4

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2014. - Licia**

"Did you touch anything or move anything after you found the body?" One of the girls shook her head; Tim and Ziva had managed to track the teens down at a local diner, and had taken them to a back corner of the eatery to get their statements.

"No."

Ziva glanced at Tim, who had returned to his writing. "Look, we know you're big city federal Navy cops, and we're small-town kids, but just because we grew up here all our lives doesn't mean we don't watch TV. We know not to touch a body or move anything."

"That's good." Tim replied, as Ziva got another kid's information. "Your parents in law enforcement?" One boy shook his head.

"Nope. Learned it from watching _CSI_ and _Rizzoli and Isles_." Ziva's head snapped up.

"What is... Rizzoli Isles?" Tim rolled his eyes.

"Seriously?" One of the boys glanced at Ziva, raising an eyebrow. "What, have you lived under a rock for the last few years?" Ziva narrowed her eyes.

"Why would I live under a rock?" Tim had the good sense to interject before Ziva hurt their witnesses.

"She's Israeli, and she's not that familiar with America or American TV shows, plus she doesn't watch that much TV." He cleared his throat. "Now, you said you found her sprawled out over the grave, with the side of her head bashed in?" One of the boys nodded.

"Yeah. She... we thought she'd gotten drunk and passed out at first. It... it was only when we got closer that... that we realized she... she was dead. Her lips were blue." Tim and Ziva shared a glance.

"Did you touch the body?" Ziva asked, studying each of the kids. They all shook their heads- except for one. "You touched the body?"

"I saw the side of her head, and then quickly checked her pulse. I thought..." The boy swallowed, grimacing. The agents shared another look, before Tim knelt down to meet the boy's gaze.

"What's your name?"

"T... Trevor."

"Trevor?" He nodded. "Can you tell us anything else?" A shake of the head. "I think we've got everything for now." Tim pulled a card out of his pocket, holding it out to the boy. "If you or any of your friends can think of anything else that would be useful, don't hesitate to call us."

* * *

The cat looked up, its yellow eyes scanning the street for them to return. There was no sight of the team, or the agent it waited patiently for. A moment passed before it stretched, yawning. It had waited here all day, and yet there was no sight-

The sight of two humans returning- neither the human it was waiting for- caused him to stand.

"Well, if it isn't the-" The younger agent reached out to pet it, and the cat hissed, swatting at him. He pulled back, clearly frightened.

"What is the matter, Tony? I thought you would get over your little fear of pussy-" The two older agents turned as the younger man and the woman joined them not five minutes later. The woman glanced at her partner as the cat leapt off the porch, heading towards the couple. "Cat." She looked down as it began to rub against her legs, and after a moment, knelt down and scooped it up. Her partner instantly sneezed. "What is your name, huh? Do you belong to someone?"

"Clearly it's a stray, Ziva." The older of the three men replied. "Now come on, we've got evidence to go over." And without another word, the man turned, heading into the building; the younger man followed. The cat looked up at the woman, and she smiled softly.

"I'm sure they will not mind if I bring you in for a night." The cat nuzzled against her, purring softly.

* * *

 _"You hag! There are not enough children in the world to keep thee young and beautiful!"_

He shifted, lost in the nightmare, the tightness in his chest taking hold, and he whimpered. Ziva snuggled closer, whispering softly to him in her half-sleep, and the cat looked up from its place curled up on Ziva's backpack- where the Israeli had set it down after sneaking it inside that afternoon. Nimbly, the feline slipped off the backpack and across the floor, leaping onto the bed and slowly making its way towards the couple.

The man shifted again, his whimpering getting louder; his mate- for clearly, that's what the woman was- snuggled closer, sliding her arms around him and nuzzling into his side. On softly padded feet, the cat walked towards the woman, before quietly leaping over her and going to the man. It then began kneading his chest before settling down, a contented hum escaping its throat.

 _"Hast thou seen my sister Emily?"_

He continued to thrash within the sheets, even as Ziva nuzzled as close as she possibly could, by now though completely out and snoring. The cat returned to kneading his chest, the purring getting louder, and for a moment, it seemed to calm him. But only for a moment.

 _"No! Emily!"_

McGee bolted upright, covered in sweating and shaking; Ziva turned, burrowing into her pillow and returning to her snoring. He looked around, before his gaze finally landed on the cat now sitting in his lap. Green eyes met yellow, and after a moment, the cat leaned up, nudging its head against his, before hopping off the bed and going to the door. Still shaking, Tim glanced at his girlfriend, before getting up. How the hell had Ziva managed to sneak the cat into the building anyway?

He pushed the blankets aside, reaching down to grab his shoes as he shifted to the edge of the bed, but the cat's scratching at the door forced him to pause, and he sighed, getting up and going to the door. Kneeling down, he scooped up the cat, holding it as far away as his arms would allow; he then made his way down the stairs to the back door, opening it and gently setting the cat down outside. "Go on. Shoo!" But the cat just stared at him, and he sighed. It seemed to study him for a moment, refusing to budge. Groaning softly, Tim returned inside, only to feel something dart past him, and he looked down to see the cat sitting before him. "No, you go outside. I don't know how..." He sniffled, struggling not to sneeze- it had been a hassle to keep from sneezing on the way down to the back door- as he reached down for the cat, but it darted around him and out into the night. Tim turned back, watching as it disappeared, and relaxed. "Happy hunting."

He turned, heading back towards the stairs to join Ziva, only to stop as something caught his gaze. What appeared to be a shadow of a man- who promptly fled past him outside. Tim chased after him, completely unsure of _why_ he was chasing after a cat as opposed to going back to bed and curling up with Ziva; he guessed that a part of him wanted to make sure the cat was okay. Besides, it didn't look like he'd be getting much sleep anyway, with the way his nights had been going lately.

Eventually, he stumbled into the cemetery. The cat was waiting for him, settled at the grave of Emily Binx. Tim sighed, making his way towards the cat. "Well, as long as you can find a place to sleep toni-" He turned to go, only to find himself face to face with what appeared to be a young man. "Who-" As the man reached out towards him, McGee stumbled back, striking his head on the edge of the worn stone. The last image was of the man kneeling over him, and for a moment, he swore he was looking at his long-lost twin. However, before he blacked out, he heard a voice- of, surprisingly, the _cat_ ,

"It's 'bout time you've returned to Salem, do you know how long I've been waiting for you, Thackery?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2014. - Licia**

 _The smell of smoke, the lingering stench of death, the crushing of bone and the indescribable pain..._

He awoke with a start, his heart leaping into his throat. Somehow, someway, he'd made it out of the bed and breakfast, and found his way to the cemetery. He pushed himself up; a throbbing in his head soon made its presence known, and after a moment, he quickly reached up-

His fingers came back free of blood. At least that was one thing he didn't have to worry about.

It took him a moment, before he was able to stumble to his feet, and once he did, he realized that it was probably around eleven or twelve in the evening. Ziva and the rest of the team were back at the bed and breakfast, sound asleep. On shaky legs, he moved to leave the cemetery, only to find a young man blocking his way. He shook his head, but the man didn't go away, instead, he moved closer.

"Don't think you're about to just leave us like this, Thackery."

The young man before him- who he now realized was a boy, of probably no more than fifteen or sixteen- didn't say a word, and slowly, he turned, to find the cat sitting atop the gravestone he himself had been lying against moments before. He shook his head. "Ah... wh... what did you call me?"

"We've waited too long for you to return." The cat replied, as the teenager moved closer. Tim turned back to him; it was then that he saw exactly what the boy was-

Spectral in form, transparent in thickness, dressed in a pair of brown breeches and a white, long-sleeved nightshirt, similar to what was worn in the seventeen hundreds, his hair pulled back in a ponytail at the base of his neck. He was barefoot, and his eyes... his eyes were haunted.

A spirit.

Tim glanced from the cat to the spirit of the boy and back. "No. _Hocus Pocus_ was just a kids movie made by Disney, back in the nineties-"

"It was based on truth." The cat replied, tail flicking in annoyance. "Years before the witch trials of sixteen-hundred-ninety-two stole nineteen lives innocent of witchcraft, the Sanderson sisters were performing witchcraft and stealing the lives of Salem's children."

"When?" There was no way Tim believed any of this, but better to listen than... he shook his head. He didn't know what, to be honest.

"Sixteen-hundred-sixty-seven." The cat replied. "Years before you and Emily were even born." It leapt deftly off the stone, making its way towards him. "Emily was the one who brought about their deaths, and Max Dennison broke the curse back in ninety. Or so he thought."

"Thought?" There was no way any of this was real-

"You truly don't know about the second layer of the curse, do you?" The boy spoke this time, and Tim turned to him. "The second part of my curse, was to tether a piece of my soul to this world for all eternity. Only to be broken by the love of another underneath the light of the full moon on All Hallow's Eve."

"Which is two nights away." The cat replied, and Tim turned back to the animal.

"I don't understand."

"Not all of my soul is free." The boy spoke up again, and Tim let his gaze move back to him. "The last part of my soul... resides in you."

"That's... that's ridiculous." Tim whispered, and the boy stepped closer, into the moonlight. It was then that Tim saw what the boy had been afraid to show. Though he was clearly a spirit, he was only half there, as though he were half a manifestation; not a fully manifested spirit, not fully free.

"That's why you're remembering what you are." The cat replied. "You've finally returned to Salem, your birthplace, your rightful home. In order to break the second half of Winifred Sanderson's curse-"

"Wait... how? What... what happens if the curse is broken?" He must have hit his head harder than he thought, if he was taking this entire conversation as easily as he thought he was.

"The missing piece of my soul returns to me, and I'm finally free. I can finally be with Emily." The boy stopped, thinking. "'twill happen at the hour when the veil is gone, when the dead return and walk among the living. If the love of another breaks the curse under the light of the full moon when the veil disappears-"

"You'll... and you?" He turned to the cat, who cocked its head, as if to shrug. "And me? What happens to me?"

The boy moved closer, reaching out a hand to caress Tim's cheek, as though he could sense the missing half of his soul within the young agent. Tim winced, pulling away. "You will cease to exist."

Tim shook his head. "No... what about _my_ soul? Don't I deserve my own soul?" He stopped, realizing how pathetic he sounded, arguing with the half-manifestation of a boy from Salem's past and a talking cat.

"The legend of two souls becoming stitched together out of love is just that, sadly, a legend." The boy whispered, understanding what the agent was getting at.

* * *

She awoke, to the feel of sheets beneath her hand. After several minutes, she sat up, climbing out of bed and slipping into her boots. A quick search told her that Tim was nowhere in the bed and breakfast, and after several minutes, she grabbed her flashlight and slipped out of the building. Maybe he'd gone for a walk because he couldn't sleep.

After several minutes of searching, voices led her to the old cemetery, and she slipped inside, silently searching among the gravestones. She stopped however, when she heard his voice.

"... so... I'm just supposed to... to die... so that... that you can be free from this... this _curse_?"

She moved closer, ducking behind a gnarled tree, to find Tim talking to... she couldn't tell who, exactly. She listened in silence for several minutes, before finally moving out from behind the tree. "Tim?"


End file.
